


How to Satisfy a Beast

by Terminallydepraved



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Comedy, Fluff, M/M, Werewolf!Gavin Reed, Werewolves, Worried!Nines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-10 03:15:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16462310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terminallydepraved/pseuds/Terminallydepraved
Summary: Nines can't help but be worried when Gavin misses work. Everyone assures him it's fine, this happens every month, but still...AKA the one in which Nines refuses to let sleeping dogs (or Gavin) lie.





	How to Satisfy a Beast

**Author's Note:**

> the lovely FoxFlannel was kind enough to feed me the other day, so in return I decided to feed them! Hopefully I'll be doing some more in this universe soon! Enjoy!

The precinct was quiet without Gavin. 

Nines sat at his desk and tried to focus on the half-written report open on the screen in front of him. He tried to finish the sentence he’d started, tried to do the job he’d been programed to do before the Revolution realigned his priorities. Nines closed his eyes for exactly two seconds. He opened them, shifted four inches to the right, and stared once more at the empty desk across from him. 

He wasn’t sure why he thought checking again might yield a different result than any of the other attempts had before it. It was foolish. Illogical. He glared at the empty chair, blaming it for this mounting problem. 

He’d asked about it before, back when everyone had gathered in the breakroom for the usual lunch hour. Connor had been kind enough to share some of his thirium with him, more out a desire for Nines to join in than out of any dire need on Nines’s part. He’d sat with them and listened to them all chat and laugh, and when a lull had presented itself, he’d asked quite casually, “Where is Detective Reed today?”

Silence descended, only to be broken a moment later by the Lieutenant. He cleared his throat, swallowing around his mouthful of salad dressed in low-fat balsamic dressing, and answered, “It’s just his time of the month. He’ll be back after the weekend’s over.”

Nines had frowned at that. Some of the others laughed, teasing tones recalling how irritable Gavin had been over the week leading up to his absence. A quick check with Connor told him they were making menstruation jokes. As for  _ why, _ even Connor didn’t know. They all assured him though that this was normal. That Gavin was in the habit of taking off work every month around the same time, and this time just so happened to fall in the middle of the week instead of on a convenient weekend. They told him not to worry. That Gavin would be back soon. 

Nines laced his fingers together beneath the desk and stared harder at the empty chair across from him. It didn’t sit well, those excuses. Gavin had always informed him before when he wouldn’t be in. A quick text, a typo-riddled email after a night spent drinking too much to facilitate an early Monday morning start the next day. But this time… there’d been nothing. 

He didn’t like it. 

A phone rang across the room. Nines blinked, breaking himself away from his staring contest with Gavin’s chair. He sat a little taller in his seat and looked back at the half-finished report still sitting on the screen. The cursor blinked at him. The internal clock built into his mind palace told him he still had another four hours before his shift came to an end. 

With a push and a frown, he continued writing his report. He’d finish this, then do the rest. Six ‘o-clock would come and he’d be able to… to… 

To do something about the pit of unease flickering across every sensor his body contained. He had four hours to figure out what that something would be. He wouldn’t waste a second of it. 

\---

It took approximately six point four hours for Nines to settle on a course of action, and he wasn’t happy with that response time at all. He blamed the indecision on his lack of information. No one was forthcoming with what exactly was ailing Gavin. Tina had told him that Gavin just needed space, time. Such a thing alluded to perhaps fatigue or perhaps even depression. The Lieutenant, on the other hand, had given him an incredulous look and told him nothing of merit beyond Gavin needing to work out whatever it was.  _ Alone, _ he’d clarified when Nines had perked up. That had implied a personal matter, something like a death in the family or another similar type of loss. Perhaps one of his cats? But that went against the earlier assertions that Gavin did this regularly. It was statistically impossible for Gavin to lose a family member at the same time every single month. Nines had even checked to make sure, and Gavin showed off pictures of his pets often enough that Nines had a feeling he would know if one of them was in poor health. 

So, with little to go on and no one being forthcoming, Nines was left with covering all the bases he possibly could. Nines had made a list, gone to the store, then gone back to his apartment to prepare things before finally heading to Gavin’s house. In his arms he carried a large pot of soup– Chicken and noodles, his internet searches had recommended. Good for sickness, cheering spirits, and providing warmth. Looped over his arm was a bag filled with tissues, chocolates, a few greeting cards for various occasions with personalized condolences written one each one. He’d even gone ahead and purchased a small stuffed toy in the shape of a cat in case it did turn out to be feline related. He was prepared. Felt as much, anyway. 

Nines stood on the doorstep at approximately 8:48 p.m, as ready as he could possibly be for whatever it was ailing his partner this time. The light coming off the streets had nothing on the glow of the moon already high in the sky behind him. Nines hitched the pot higher and brought his elbow to the doorbell. He pressed down for two seconds and waited. 

When no one answered, he rang again. 

He set the pot down and tried knocking. “Detective Reed?” he called out, certain he could hear shuffling through the door. “It’s Nines. Can I please come in?”

His eyes widened when instead of a coherent answer, a terse “Fuck off,” or something similar, he heard what sounded like a pained moan. Nines’s processors whirled audibly in discontent. “Gavin?” he called out again, louder. He pressed himself to the door, and when that failed to yield something better, he moved to the side and peered through the nearest window. 

The house was dark inside, no lights visible despite the darkness that had already taken over the night. Nines narrowed his eyes and flicked on his nightvision– a function he hadn’t had much use for following the termination of his initial soldier core programming. He looked at Gavin’s living room, at the shapes of his sofa and entertainment center. Things were out of order. Chairs pushed back, a table knocked askew. A bookshelf against the far wall had been divested of its contents which now lay scattered upon the floor. Nines’s thirium pump stuttered in his chest. A robbery? Had that noise been the sound of Gavin injured? 

“Gavin, I’m coming in,” he called out, suddenly desperate to reassure the scared, pained human. Nines looked at the window, then at the door. He ran the calculations and stepped back onto the stoop. Another pained howl sounded behind the door, and Nines wasted no time in bracing his shoulder to it and ramming it open with one calculated blow. 

The wood at the lock splintered and gave way easily. Nines burst inside and flicked on the light, more for Gavin’s sake than his own. The room looked even worse now than it had in night vision. He didn’t stop to take stock of the damages. He moved through the house and called out, “Gavin? Gavin, where are you?” instead, looping around the living room and kitchen. 

Despite the mess on the floor, there was no sign of forced entry beyond what Nines had just done himself. No blood, no evidence of trauma. There were a few odd gouges in the walls, dragged lines that dug deep into the drywall and ruined the paint, but other than that…

Nines ran over the possibilities. He hadn’t checked the bedroom yet. No blood and no forced entry… Had Gavin caused this damage himself? The detective was known to throw temper tantrums every now and again but they had vastly improved in the time Nines had known him. Nines looked from the busted door to the hallway. The pot of soup was still on the stoop. 

He made the executive decision to go back for it first before proceeding further. There was a chance now that Gavin had done this himself, and Nines had a feeling he’d need to use the soup as a peace offering as apology for breaking his door. Nines quickly moved towards it, picking it and the bags up. He turned around and re-entered the house, ears pricking at the sound of shuffling coming from down the hall. 

“Gavin, it’s Nines,” he called out again in case Gavin didn’t hear it before. “I believed you were in danger and broke your door to permit myself entry. I apologize if that’s not the case–”

A body emerged from the hall. A body. Not Gavin. Not a burglar. Nines paused mid step, processors firing off faster than he thought possible as he stared at the… the  _ creature  _ wading through the debris covering the living room floor. 

For the barest hint of a moment, Nines wondered if Gavin had somehow gotten a dog without telling anyone. In the next, he realized Gavin would never.  _ Dogs were the worst, _ Gavin would say every time Hank showed off pictures of Sumo.  _ The absolute worst.  _ Also, this was clearly no dog, no matter how similar it looked. The creature before him was bulky and shambling, bent over on all fours with thick dark hair covering every inch of its body. Sharp, triangular ears stood at attention on the top of its tapered skull, and its eyes were a murky grey that stared at Nines with intent untold. 

Sharp incisors teased the air as the creature began to snarl. It watched him for a few minutes, then relaxed minutely. Those grey eyes blinked slowly, unimpressed,  _ annoyed.  _ Nines inhaled when he realized he was at risk of overheating. His processors tried and failed to logically explain what he was seeing. Still, he somehow knew his first impressions were correct. 

“I… made you soup,” Nines said dumbly, staring at what  _ must  _ be Gavin. Logically it made no sense. Absolutely none. But… something in Nines told him that through it all, it was still Gavin. It… had to be him. Those eyes were his. He’d recognize them anywhere. 

The beast– _ Gavin– _ growled. The move pulled at his long snout, stretching the grisly scar painted across his nose. Nines stood stock still as it sniffed next, didn’t dare to even breathe an unnecessary breath when Gavin snuffled closer, dragging large, dinner plate-sized paws across the hardwood floor. The claws sprouted from those paws clicked intimidatingly with every step he took. Nines wondered if a wolf would attack an android. Surely it couldn’t make a meal of synthetic body parts.

“Detective Reed, are you a werewolf?”

Gavin paused. He lifted his head slowly, staring at Nines like he was an idiot. Yes, this was definitely Gavin. The wolf stared at him for a beat and then looked away. A snuffle sounded. Almost like a put upon sigh. He moved closer and Nines held still, unsure of what to do when an enormous werewolf-wolf nosed at the pot in his hands. 

Gavin pawed at the floor. Nines blinked. “Gavin, I don’t believe this type of food was meant for canine digestive systems,” he said slowly, gathering that Gavin wanted him to put the pot on the floor. “I could go out and purchase you some dog food instead–”

The teeth were back, snapping delicately at his jacket tail and tugging with more strength than Nines had expected. It nearly unbalanced him completely, so Nines quickly set the pot down before Gavin tried to lower the pot by force, even if it meant the soup spilling across the floor. 

Thankfully it didn’t come to that. Nines set the pot down and removed the lid for good measure, and Gavin lowered his head towards the soup to sniff at it critically. Nines shifted a little, slowly folding himself into a crouch. “I wasn’t sure what was wrong with you today,” he explained, smiling softly when Gavin gave the soup a cautious lick. “I thought you might have been sick, so I made soup in the hopes that it might make you feel better.” Of course, he had failed to plan for lycanthropy being the cause of Gavin’s absence. He discretely nudged the bag of other gifts behind himself, unwilling to let Gavin see just how thorough his attempts had been to see him healthy and happy again. 

Gavin’s ears flattened a little against his skull. He didn’t lift his head again. Embarrassed, maybe. He shoved his snout into the pot properly now that he knew it was edible, eating with gusto. Noodles and broth speckled the immediate area, but when Nines tried to bring his hand close to clean it up, Gavin gave a warning growl and snapped up the stray pieces himself before Nines could interfere. 

“I guess the soup is to your liking,” Nines smiled, taking back his hand as Gavin went to town on what was left. Which admittedly wasn’t much. He really must have been hungry, or perhaps the transformation shifted his metabolism? Nines would have to ask him all sorts of questions once he reverted. “I’m glad you’re okay, Gavin.” It’d been… scary not knowing how to help, if he even could. 

That got Gavin to lift his furry head. He stared at Nines and then looked off at the floor, shifting on his big paws almost sheepishly. A low rumble sounded in the depths of his chest. Gavin leaned forward, nosing his wet, chicken-flecked snout at Nines’s hand, nudging it until it was on his head. Nines held his breath again. He buried his fingers in Gavin’s thick fur, scratching carefully behind his ear to see what the wolf did. 

Another low rumble. Gavin closed his eyes, pleased, and carefully lowered his head once more towards the rapidly vanishing soup pot. He took great strides to make sure Nines didn’t remove his hand. 

Nines ran his fingers through Gavin’s fur and smiled. Perhaps he’d done something right after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> if you liked this consider leaving a comment! check me out on twitter @tdcloud_writes. if you're a fan of the supernatural, you just might find something you like! until next time~


End file.
